They lay there on their cots staring up at the ceiling, recovering from their ordeal by electric shock and each no doubt daydreaming about their strong hands closing around the throat of one Howard Tyree and crushing the life out of him.

“Smart thinking, Oliver,” Knox said, finally breaking the silence. “I loved it when he followed your order about the polygraph. And you saw the guards’ expressions when you hit ’em with the facts?”

“I saw.”

“What do you think they’ll do now?”

“Snoop around and see if anything might be coming their way. That gives us the one thing we really need.”

“Time,” answered Knox.

“Time,” agreed Stone.

They heard a sound at the door and both men braced for another painful extraction. Yet the only thing coming in was a slip of paper through the cuff slot. It drifted down to the floor. Knox snagged it and passed the note to Stone.

Stone read it. “Next chow, watch out for Manson.”

Stone glanced up at Knox. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” he said.

“Absolutely, but they could kill us or at least mess up our chance with this guard.”

“Not if we do it the right way.”

Chapter 70

CHAPTER 70

“HARRY, what are you doing here?” Annabelle looked from Harry Finn to Alex Ford as they sat crammed in the back of the van.

“Alex filled me in on what was going on. Sounded like you could use some help.”

Harry Finn, while perhaps not as lethal and skilled as Oliver Stone, was worth at least five ordinary men in his ability to fight and think at the same time.

“What did you get from old Shirley?” asked Reuben.

“A lot.” She quickly filled Alex and Harry in on all that they’d found out, including her conversation with Shirley.

“How does a bottom turn into an ass?” said Alex. “What the hell kind of clue is that?”

“It’s a very clear one,” answered Caleb, who was in the driver’s seat. Everyone turned to stare at him. “Nick Bottom is a character, a weaver actually, whose head is transformed into an ass’s head by Puck the Hobgoblin.”

They all stared at Caleb in befuddlement before Reuben said, “Are you on some kind of librarian crack?”

“No, it means that drunk Shirley is actually fairly well-read because that’s a scene from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Abby Riker’s place,” exclaimed Annabelle. “A Midsummer’s Farm.”

“Sounds like a plan,” began Alex, but he stopped talking when Harry held up a hand. They all listened.

“There’s someone out there,” hissed Caleb.

Harry and Alex pulled their weapons. Alex tossed a spare gun to Reuben, who took up position near one of the wide windows.

“Caleb, are you okay driving—”

They were nearly knocked over when Caleb rammed the accelerator and the van crashed through some bushes and hit the road even as bullets pinged against the sides of the vehicle.